Feliz Cumpleaños!
by MorphineGun12
Summary: North and South Mexico are celebrating two hundred and two years of independance-and birthdays- when suddenly the reason why they became a country comes along and pays them a visit. Summary sucks, but please give it a read, it's a special day for Mexico after all.


**A/N: So this is my first Hetalia fic and I wanted it to be about Mexico and its independence. I don't own Hetalia only my OCs. Thank you!**

Manuel Fernandez-Hidalgo giggled and looked at his snoring older brother who was drooling on his work desk. North Mexico was frowning in his sleep, his black hair over his eyes. Scattered around him were papers of debt and speeches and politics (something Manuel though impressive of his big brother to try and keep up).

_Pobre hermano,_ South Mexico thought, looking at Rafael, _our boss must have worked him out last night with all these papers._

Manuel poked his brother's head, careful not to mess with the thick black curl that was sticking out of said country's head. "Hermano, wake up, I have something special for you. Rafael, despierta!" He shook his brother's shoulder and made Rafael groan and swap his hand way.

"What do you want, Manuel?" he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and scratched his head, yawning. Manuel smiled his biggest smile and threw his arms out, shaking his maracas.

"¡Feliz cumpleaños, Rafael!" the younger one cried, now tackling his older brother in a hug. "Can you believe it? Two hundred and two years!" by this time Manuel had let go of Rafael and began to jump around excitedly.

Rafael blinked at the statement. Wow, has it really been that long? He remembered helping their former boss, Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla to finally win independence from Spain and now it's been two hundred and two years since they won.

The now fifteen-year-old Manuel took his brother's hand and dragged him to the window, opening it and peering out, smiling wide. Rafael looked out and smiled, too. People young and old were cheering, screaming, waving their country's flag and singing along to the anthem as the floats passed through the plaza, el Zócalo, in front of the national palace and lights of all different colors bounced off the walls.

"Look, hermano!" Manuel pointed at the balcony of the president. He was holding Mexico's flag, giving out a speech, crying out the names that helped make this possible. _Hidalgo would be proud_, Rafael thought, looking at the people as they cried back, "_¡Viva Mexico!_"

"_¡Viva!"_ they cried, throwing their fists in the air.

"_¡Viva Mexico!_"

"_¡Viva!_" the two brothers cried again.

"_¡VIVA MEXICO!_" the president cried with pride and the people returned it with the same feeling.

"_¡VIVA!_" everyone cheered as fireworks sparked from the cathedral and trumpets played, mixing in with the crowd's happy feeling and excitement. Manuel and Rafael smiled, they were proud to come this far.

"Hola, mis hermanos," the boys turned around and their black eyes went wide; standing at the doorway was Spain, smiling at them.

"Hermano España, how are you?" Manuel ran up to the older country and hugged him. Spain laughed and hugged him back, petting his head (careful not to touch his thick black curl, of course).

"Hola, pequeño," the Spaniard chuckled, pulling away from the hug and smiled at Manuel, "feliz cumpleaños," Manuel beamed and nodded a thank-you, walking back to Rafael.

Spain looked at the serious sixteen-year-old, walking up to them, the cheers and music seemed to drown out. "Hola, Rafa," Spain said, choosing his words carefully, knowing all too well of his younger brother's temper, "Como estas?" Rafael huffed and crossed his arms, continuing to look out the window to see the celebration. He sighed, finally relaxing; he didn't want to fight with anyone—not today.

"I'm fine, Antonio, gracias," he replied, walking up to his older brother. It wouldn't hurt to stop arguing for once, will it? North Mexico took out his hand in front of the Spaniard and gave him a weak smile, looking at Antonio with an honest stare of forgiveness.

Manuel began to smile again, seeing that both his brothers have gotten along so quickly in a small matter of time.

"Rafa, I-I'm sorry…for everything," Antonio whispered, looking down, "Look at yourselves, you've grown so much," he looked at the two boys.

"No, España, I'm sorry I was such an ass, lo siento," Rafael did the unimaginable and hugged his older brother, making Manuel gasp. Antonio smiled and patted the boy's back affectionately.

"Feliz cumpleaños, hermanos," Antonio pulled back and began to walk towards the door again, "Estoy orgulloso, I'm proud of you two." The cannons began to sound as the national anthem played once more followed by many people singing along. The two brothers looked back where their older brother had left, feeling a bit sad but hid it well.

Today wasn't a time for sadness, it was a time for pride and honor and knowing that once more, Mexico has stood tall and independent. They walked towards the window again, looking out as the fireworks still shot to the sky, the cannons still fired and the people still cheered. Rafael smiled, knowing him and Manuel wouldn't be there if it weren't for their Antonio teaching them all they needed to know.

"Gracias, España," he whispered, still watching the celebration still taking place, Rafael put a protective arm around his little brother's shoulders and smiled. Mexico wouldn't be the same as it is without Spain, but it still wouldn't be the same without its people—that was something everyone knew.


End file.
